


something unusual

by bleakmidwinter



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothed Frottage, Clothed Sex, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter
Summary: Will wants to try something new with his and Hannibal's sex life in Argentina.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 16
Kudos: 245





	something unusual

**Author's Note:**

> I took the sex at the end/partial quotes from the show "Masters of Sex" It's based off the scene in season 2 where Virginia is trying to get Bill hard and ties him up and rubs against him. HAH, enjoy.

Their first kiss had happened a week into their recovery. Will was lying in his bed, and Hannibal loomed over him in a chair, speaking to him softly about their future in Argentina.

Hannibal had curled a strand of Will’s hair behind his ear, drowning him with the intensity of his fondness. Will used to be able to bear the suffocation with great fortitude, but after the fall, his barriers had been ripped from their foundations, and he found himself dragging Hannibal in for a bruising kiss. Hannibal had reciprocated thoroughly, matching Will’s newfound unbridled desire like he’d never known any other.

It wasn’t too long after this that their relationship began getting more and more _physical_. 

It was in Argentina when Will had taken his first cock; Hannibal slid deep into him and he’d adjusted with broken moans, and sweat trickling down his temple. When Hannibal began to thrust, he’d gripped onto his shoulders as is his life depended on it. For all his apprehension towards the act of sex with a man, when it was finished and there was a slickness trickling out of him, a symbol of Hannibal marking him, he knew he’d never want anything more.

Will was constantly hungry for it. Ambushing Hannibal in the kitchen while he made their dinners with titles longer than psalms from the Bible. He’d egg Hannibal on his rough days until Hannibal was grabbing both his wrists in one hand and forcing them above his head as he devoured his neck, chest, nipples, and _everything_ that made Will squirm and moan. 

Will has never experienced such pleasure. It’s good, every single time. Too good.

Until Hannibal, he never woke with an ache below the tailbone of his spine, making itself known every time he shifted or sat down, but he revels in it now. 

Will loses track of the time they’ve spent in Argentina. Whether it’s been months or years matters not to him as long as he can be held with Hannibal, sharing in every aspect of him.

It happens on a particularly brisk night, the chilled winds of Argentina’s unusual and sudden weather swirling around them, incapable of cooling the searing heat they’re creating in their friction.

Hannibal had been taking it slow tonight, languidly working Will open until he begged, the hints of a smirk playing on his features when Will had added a, “ _please_ ,” of all things.

Now he’s snapping his hips, locking his mouth around the spot under Will’s ear that drives him buck wild. Will grimaces, feeling his cock twitch violently as his insides are stimulated like an electrical current. It’s the first time it’s not quite enough; he needs more. 

Will grabs Hannibal by the shoulders, and flips them over. Hannibal’s eyes widen in surprise, and it’s unfairly attractive. Will maintains eye contact as he lines Hannibal back up with his hole, and begins to ride him frantically. He falls forward, with his fists on either side of Hannibal’s face. 

They’re both close, and the pace which Will is taking Hannibal’s cock, sliding up and down like he’s trying to win a contest, is only further driving them both to their releases. Hannibal turns his face away eloquently, eyes closing as he sighs. If Will couldn’t feel his bruising grip on his hips, not guiding, but gripping desperately for purchase, he’d assume he was falling asleep. 

On a whim, Will grabs Hannibal’s face and jerks it back so he’s staring at Will again, eyes wide once more. “Look at me when you come,” he grinds out, undulating against him. When he lifts up and falls back down, swiveling his hips, Hannibal suddenly lets go, face twisting almost in agony. Will realizes this is the first time he’s seen Hannibal’s face when he comes.

Will lets out a stuttering gasp, and the sight is more than enough to send him over the edge as well, feeling the peak of his orgasm as Hannibal fills him up with the last few drops. 

There is a string of short gasps and long breaths as they calm down, steadying themselves. Will slips out and falls on his back beside Hannibal. Hannibal searches for his hand and he takes it, intertwining their fingers.

“ _Fuck_ that was good,” Will says after some time. Hannibal chuckles. 

“You were very eager,” he responds.

“As if you weren’t.” Will turns and kisses Hannibal’s mouth, scraping his nose lovingly against the stubble Hannibal hadn’t shaved off for nearly a week. “I’m rubbing off on you.” 

“I haven’t had the opportunity to buy the aftershave I’m comfortable using.” Hannibal is shuffling back into his briefs, ever the stately gentleman, as he retreats to the bathroom and returns with a wet towel to wipe Will clean. Will winces at the cold.

“You won’t use mine even though you’re perfectly fine licking it off my face,” Will grumbles and settles comfortably back into the pillows when Hannibal is done. He’s too tired to think about putting his boxers back on. 

“I’ve grown fond of it on you, but only you,” Hannibal explains. He climbs into bed and lifts the sheets up so Will can maneuver under them just when the winds from the open window seem a bit too cold against his sweat sheened skin. 

He curls up to Hannibal, allowing himself to be held. 

“It’s your fault that we’re miles from civilization,” Will chides, drifting into sleep. Hannibal’s chest moves in the imitation of a laugh. Will knows that this safehouse was chosen because it resembles Will’s house in Wolftrap the most. The familiarity still warms Will’s heart. With the added fact that the house is on a lake, it occasionally does feel like a boat on the water.

That night, Will dreams of Hannibal’s face when he comes, and his muscles tensing under Will’s grip, the heat between his thighs as he’d let go. 

When he wakes, Hannibal is gone and there is a scent of fruit and oatmeal drifting in from their kitchen. Will grumbles, starkly uncomfortable, shifting onto his front to alleviate the pressure in his groin until he gathers enough energy to go take a shower. 

Before last night, Hannibal had hid his face in Will’s neck when he came, or was in a position where he could easily control his reactions, Will always too distracted by his own orgasm to be able to truly focus on Hannibal’s. He should have tried to ride him from the get-go. 

When Will showers and comes out for breakfast, they don’t speak of the night before, but Will watches Hannibal work with a darkened gleam in his eyes.

* * *

Will waits a week before he brings it up. 

Will desires Hannibal the most when he’s come home from a hunt, smelling of adrenaline and blood. It’s almost as intoxicating as when they’ve both hunted together. Hannibal had gone out alone this time, bringing back a kidney, lung, and heart. 

“Preparing something big for dinner tonight?” Will asks smoothly. He’s stretched out on the couch with a white button-up that’s not quite buttoned up at all. He takes a sip of wine. 

“Were you waiting for me?” Hannibal asks, heavy breathing betraying his anticipation.

“Since you left.” Will sets his drink down and it’s an invitation for Hannibal to pounce, pushing him down into the couch and sliding hands up his chest to his ribs. Will gasps when Hannibal breathes in deeply in the crook of his neck, nails digging into flesh when he smells something he likes. 

“You’re aroused,” he observes. It takes all of Will’s power not to groan when he feels Hannibal’s thigh press against his groin.

“Since you left,” he repeats, breathily, fully accepting the open mouthed kiss he’s rewarded. He tastes of blood, and must have bitten his prey raw tonight. The thought leaves Will’s blood boiling, and his cock aching.

As much as he’d like to be taken on the leather cushions, he has plans for tonight. 

“Hannibal,” Will begins unsteadily, pushing Hannibal away from his neck. Hannibal sits up on his haunches, hair falling just above his eyes. He looks ready to devour, but restrains himself. Will is grateful as he leans up, stroking a hand up Hannibal’s throat, stroking two fingers outside the windpipe. He feels Hannibal swallow, and knows it is out of arousal not fear.

“Is there anything you ever think about doing to me? Something unusual?” 

Will swears he can see the images flash across Hannibal’s eyes, and the corners of his lips upturn, with a dark glint to his stare. 

“What are you upto, Will?” 

Will shrugs. “I asked you a question.”

Hannibal strokes a hand through Will’s curls, a thumb swiping over the faded scar on his cheek. “I’ve imagined quite a few scenarios.”

“Tell me,” Will demands. 

Hannibal seems hesitant, but Will grips his wrist as if to remind him he won’t be able to scare him off, no matter what he says. Hannibal wets his lips.

“I imagine you allowing me to drink your blood, to slice where I please and drink you as I please. A common place is right above or right below your naval.” Hannibal’s eyes glaze over as if he in this fantasy now. Will leans in, to let Hannibal know he’s more than intrigued. “Sometimes I use your blood to stroke you to your release.”

Will imagines it, the images striking up arousal almost instantly. Normally, he’d never conjure up these images in his own fantasies, but it does the job of making him _want_. If it were to please Hannibal’s deepest, most buried, desires, it would please Will reverently. 

“What other things do you imagine us doing?” Will asks and Hannibal does smile then, eyes wrinkling at the corners. 

“While I do believe you hold genuine interest in my fantasies, I can see you’re holding something back. Were you waiting for me to ask you if there is anything _you_ imagine doing to _me?_ ” Hannibal pauses before cleverly adding, “Something unusual?”

He’s beating Will at his own game, making him _weak_ for it with just the tone of his voice. Will wants to bite him.

Will nods instead, and Hannibal presses their foreheads together so they’re breathing the same air. “Tell me,” he whispers and Will trembles.

“I’ve been thinking about doing lots of things to you.” Will takes a deep breath, Hannibal’s scent surrounding him. He drags his gaze upward to look into Hannibal’s eyes. It feels like there are weights attached to his eyelids but he continues. “I think about making you powerless, completely at my mercy. M-Making you beg.” 

Hannibal’s lips part, and his fingers twitch where they rest on Will’s hip. 

Will leans in just an inch to place a chaste kiss on his upper lip, nosing his cheek as he slides a hand up Hannibal’s thigh, hot to the touch. 

“Would you let me?” he whispers. They’ve only ever had sex one way, but the week prior had been a surprise for both of them, and he knows Hannibal had loved every second of it. 

“Will,” he says hoarsely after a few thick moments of silence. “The things I would let you do to me know no limits.”

This is all Will needs before standing and pulling Hannibal up with him. He drags Hannibal by his tie to their bedroom, the harvested organs abandoned on the kitchen counter. 

He has Hannibal sit on the end of the bed, legs resting halfway on the bench that is pushed up right against the edge of it. Will’s back is turned but he can feel Hannibal’s searing gaze on him as he unbuttons his shirt (only two buttons) and slips it off his shoulders. He takes off his pants too, his underwear is a special kind he wore for tonight. They are long and tight to his skin, ending just above his knees. White spandex. If you were to squint, you could see the details of his dick clearly through the fabric. 

He turns back towards Hannibal who is still completely dressed, even in his long overcoat. Will removes the overcoat, but it is all he is going to remove for now. He slaps Hannibal’s hands away when Hannibal begins to unbutton his three-piece suit. 

Hannibal drops his hands at his sides, eyes glistening with amusement, lips twitching up.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Will says, but he can’t help laughing a bit as he says it. Hannibal’s humor drifts away when he draws closer though. With one knee on the bench, Will leans forward to tug at Hannibal tie, and loosens it enough to remove.

He crawls behind Hannibal and moves his pliant wrists back so he can tie them up. Certainly with just a necktie, Hannibal would be able to pry free if he truly wanted to. But, he won’t. He’s indulging Will for now, and will be as bound as Will wants him to be. 

Will throws a leg over Hannibal’s lap and sighs when he settles into place. Hannibal feels half-hard under him, always able to restrain himself. Will is going to change that. 

There is still a smugness to Hannibal that he’d like to punch or slap and claw away. Hannibal leans forward and Will puts a hand to his shoulder shoving him back. 

“I didn’t say you could move.” 

Hannibal watches Will darkly as he traces soft lines around Hannibal’s neck, collarbone, or wherever he can find skin. He moves his hips only in the most minute of ways. 

“You can’t touch me, not with your hands, not with your mouth,” Will informs. He’s shocked at his own ability to maintain control. Hannibal leans forward almost instinctively, towards Will’s peaked nipple, and Will grabs his face before his mouth can make contact. He looks down at him with sympathetic cruelty and shakes his head.

“I said no. You can’t taste me, not tonight.”

Bitterness shows in Hannibal’s face. Not towards Will, but his predicament. 

Will leans in to whisper in his ear, feeling Hannibal’s shoulders tense when he absent mindedly pulls at the tie binding his wrists. “Soon,” he promises, _finally_ grinding against him fully. Just once.

A strangled moan rumbles in Hannibal’s throat and Will freezes. _He did that_. Will hadn’t been sure if this would work, or go according to his hopes and fantasies, but when he pulls back and sees Hannibal’s eyes glazed over with lust, and he feels him completely hard under his thighs, he knows he’s conquered him. 

He pushes gently at Hannibal’s chest until he’s nearly flat against the bed, still angled up enough to comfortably watch Will as he seats himself better on Hannibal’s cock, rolling his hips very slowly now, feeling every single twitch against his own cock as he goes.

After an agonizing minute of this, Hannibal’s hips twitch up nearly knocking him off. 

Will stops his ministrations despite the fact that his cock is throbbing for attention. The sight of Hannibal being driven out of his mind by him is enough motivation to abstain for hours if need be. Hannibal looks to him, eyes desperate, and Will swears he almost gets an apology.

Will smirks and moves again, harder this time, but still with not enough volition to actually get either of them off. He scratches into the layers of clothing separating him from Hannibal’s skin. They must look obscene with Will in tight revealing underwear, grinding into a man in a three-piece suit. Hannibal makes a sharp noise when he scratches over a clothed nipple and it takes all of Will not to shout in victory. 

Instead he leans down and kisses Hannibal, chaste on the mouth, and leans back as Hannibal chases the kiss. Will rests his hands on Hannibal’s sides.

“How much do you want me?” He asks simply, his voice as sultry as he can manage. 

Hannibal’s brows furrow and he lets out a shaky breath. It’s not an act; Will has learned to tell the difference. He’s the one unraveling him now, slowly pushing him towards teetering off the edge of control. It’s intoxicating, so much so that it feels like every part of Will is lighting up. 

“Tell me,” Will demands, letting a hand run up the rumpled fabric until he finds his target. He tightens his grip lightly around Hannibal’s neck. It is not enough to hinder his breathing in any sense, but just enough pressure so he knows it’s there, knows Will could do whatever he wants. Hannibal would let him. 

“I want you more than anything, Will.” The sound of his voice is debauched, focus distracted.

“Not good enough,” Will says, panting as he picks up the pace, grinds a little harder. “Tell me something different.”

Hannibal’s eyes flutter closed, and Will grabs his face with the hand that isn’t around his throat. He remembers how much it had affected him the week prior. “Look at me when you’re answering me.” 

Hannibal lets out a soft, desperate, noise that Will would have thought had come from him if he hadn’t just felt it beneath his hand. “Will, I want to have you in every way you would allow. I want to have you in ways you may not allow. I want to make love to you every night for the rest of our lives.” Hannibal chokes as Will hits a sensitive spot when he grinds down. “I want you to feel me inside of you every time you walk, every time you breathe.” 

Will’s hands curl in the jacket that is offensively still on Hannibal and drags him up so he’s speaking against his mouth. He can’t stop Hannibal from sucking on his lips, nipping at the bottom one, intruding with his tongue. He’s nearly at his limit. 

He unbuttons Hannibal’s trousers, feels him against his briefs. 

“Tell me you want to fuck me,” Will demands. 

Hannibal is not the type of man to say vulgar words. He is proper, poised. He’d never match the vulgarity of his actions with his diction. 

That’s why when Hannibal says in a low, uncharacteristically needy voice, “I want to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars,” Will gasps and comes untouched as he jerks Hannibal to his own release. Will’s not certain he sees stars, but he hasn’t come this hard since the first time they had sex. 

He never thought he could equal up to it. 

Will reaches around and tugs feebly at the binds, relaxing into Hannibal’s body as he feels strong arms come to cradle him against his chest. 

“Thank you,” Will mutters. He thinks he says it a few times, feeling too heady and heated to concentrate on reality. Hannibal kisses his temples and then his knuckles. 

“You always manage to surprise me, Will.” Hannibal sounds positively fucked out despite the fact that they had ended with a measly little handjob. It’s enough to make Will grin with a joy he couldn’t have dreamed of achieving before Argentina. Before they were each other’s homes. 

* * *

When they’ve cleaned up, Will joins him in the kitchen to watch him prepare the lung they’ll be feasting on for dinner. He swings his legs where he sits on the countertop, in thought.

“That fantasy of yours, I’m not opposed you know.” Will watches Hannibal pause in his chopping, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Good to know,” he says casually, continuing. Will scoffs. 

“I’m saying we can try it sometime if you like.” 

“Oh, I have plans for you tomorrow night, Will. You’ll just have to wait.” 

Even with his back turned, Will can tell he’s smiling, and he smiles too, picking up an apple to take a bite of it. He’ll like to see how it plays out. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sort of unoriginal LOL either way I hope you enjoyed, I certainly enjoyed writing it. I skipped out on making a Christmas pie to finish this, I was that on a roll. Expect more Hannigram soon because I'm the worst.


End file.
